


Saint or Sinner

by Helen_Hella, TaityCratey



Series: Saints and Sinners [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Read, everyone's personas are opposite to the original, it's appreciated though, jean's not actually as straight as he thought, kidding only if you want, rlly cool fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-29
Updated: 2014-04-29
Packaged: 2018-01-21 06:16:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1540697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helen_Hella/pseuds/Helen_Hella, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaityCratey/pseuds/TaityCratey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean Kirchstein is an anxious, heterosexual, and socially inept 18 year old boy in his first year of university.<br/>Jean encounters a boy with multiple piercings and dark clothing. Jean just so happens to be terrified and partially traumatized when he meets this boy. So jean stumbles. Take that in any way that you want, it probably applies.<br/>So, here begins the incredibly awkward story of Jean Kirchstein, the anxious, confused, and socially inept first year old boy in his 18 year of university. Wait, uh, yeah.</p><p>Cool, cool, cool.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saint or Sinner

**Author's Note:**

> I SUCK AT DESCRIPTIONS I AM SORRY. DON'T TOUCH ME. UNLESS I WANT YOU TO AND YOU WANT TO.
> 
> CONSENT IS SEXY NOW READ ON SOLDIER

I had always wondered what would happen when I opened that door. Perhaps I’d be greeted by the warm chatter of fellow first years and the loud clatter of pens, the sound of books and the like being placed on desks, happy faces drawing me in.  
Yeah, that would’ve been reassuring.  
Instead I had opened the door of the main physics lecture theatre to half asleep students, all groaning at different wavelengths. Fantastic.

I held back a cringe and stepped into the room, deciding that a seat near the front would be a good option. Hiding my face, I walked briskly towards the front row. Avoiding all eye contact, of course. Not that the people taking physics would exactly be intimidating. I slipped into a seat and put my backpack on the ground next to me, sighing. It seems that I’ve caught whatever’s got my fellow students draped over their stations with dark eyes and bored expressions. Well, fuck.  
I placed my head in my right hand, scanning my eyes over the whiteboard at the front of the room. It was blank. Fascinating.

I nearly fell out of my seat when the door I had just come through slammed loudly, the noise resonating throughout the theatre. I relaxed when I saw that I wasn’t the only one. Wow, I could’ve looked like an idiot. The guy who caused the racket walks to the front and dumps a pile of books on his desk. Looking him up and down, I register the fact that he could’ve been my father. Seriously, we had the same hairstyle and everything. The only difference was that he looked older than me and looked as though he was really grumpy all the time. Though, at the moment, I probably looked like a first-class grouch as well.  
He sucked in a breath through his open jaw before addressing the class.

“Greetings to you all, and welcome to Physics. My name is Auruo Bossard, but I’d like you all to call me Professor. Or, Professor Bossard. Either is fine,” he spoke with a stiff and uptight demeanour, “I will be teaching you all about the wonders of Physics, though you are expected to know some of this from previous years. You know,” he jested, bending over to pick up some papers from the desk in front of him, “ school system and all.”

Wow, I think I like this guy. Even with the whole cranky and collected act he’s got going on.

“Since this is the first lesson, and I’m a nosy bugger, there are some forms here that I’d like you to fill out. I like to know my students before I begin to teach them, so that I can help them do their best. Would anyone be kind enough to volunteer to hand them out?”

I take the offer as an opportunity to investigate the other students and raise my hand. He smiles and gestures for me to come over and take the papers. I get up from my seat and hear conversations start to pick up.  
When I reach his desk, he doesn’t hand me the stack of questionnaires right away. Instead he asks my name and extends his hand for me to shake when I reply,

“Jean.”  
He chuckles,

“That’s a mouthful! ‘Jshhahn’”  
  
My name has been pronounced wrong so many times and after eighteen years it’s getting hard to handle, but at least he’s trying. Even if he is exaggerating. And makes my name sound satanic, that’s cool. Cool, cool, cool.

I realized that I haven’t replied yet, or shaken his hand. I’ve probably been standing there with a blank expression on my face for, like, ages. I rush to correct my mistakes and push out an awkward laugh accompanied by a ‘Yeah, uh, it’s French.’

He raises his eyebrows and hands the papers over with a smile, and I thank my lucky stars that he doesn’t yell at me for being a wreck.

I slip away from his desk, papers in my hand and sweat on my brow. I can only pray that my palms aren’t sweaty as well.

The people in my class accept the papers from my hands and some offer me smiles, which I return of course. I see a few familiar faces, including some family friends and a guy I went to high school with, Reiner Braun. He was in my senior year Chem class. Nice guy, really fucking buff but a total nerd-dork. We got along really well, so I decide to say hi. He says hi back and I nearly start a conversation, but duty calls. There are still five or six papers left when I’m done, so I put one on my desk and rush over to give the spares back to Professor Bossard. _Avoid conversation at all costs._

The questions start off simple, things like  
 ‘Favourite book series?’ – Artemis Fowl (fuck yeah)  
and,  
‘Where are you from?’  
I decide to write France for that one, because I spent the first seven years of my life there. Even though I have a different passport and can’t speak French that well anymore, I write it down so that I seem interesting and cool.  
After a while, the questions start getting more intimate.  
‘Sexuality?’ – Heterosexual (I’ve never even thought about cuddling a guy, I swear)  
‘Describe yourself in three words.’  
Hm. See, I could be honest and write ‘anxious, stupid and unstable’, but that’d make me sound like a needy bastard. Maybe ‘reserved, wary and inquisitive’. Yeah.

 

The very last question tells you to write a paragraph about yourself, it also says you can do it for homework, but I ignore that part. I don’t exactly have the extra time between moving into my dorm and introductory classes. So I shake the pain out of my hand and keep writing.

_‘My name is Jean Kirchstein. I’m an eighteen year old male from the inner city of Trost. My old high school wasn’t the most prestigious, but it was private. I did really well there. I studied incredibly hard before every test, which is probably why I never had many friends. I joined the basketball team, that didn’t work out. Well, I didn’t. I’m not very good when it comes to doing physical things. So I’m pretty skinny. I guess another reason I didn’t have many friends was the fact that I absolutely suck at reading people. I’m not a bad person, really. I’m just a little socially inept. I will never start a conversation unless I have to. I’ll find any excuse not to hang out with people (not because I’m an ass, just because I don’t want their day to be ruined because of me). Haha, wow. I’m really pathetic, aren’t I? No wonder everyone hates me. I just complain all the time.  
Goodbye, I am useless.’_

I stop writing after that, feeling tears begging to emerge from behind my eyes. I reread the paragraph and decide to rub it out, replacing the previous words with more simple facts about me. Crap, I’m a needy fucker.

 

I hand in the paper and Professor Bossard tells me I can leave early. I wouldn’t really call it early, considering it’s only like two minutes until the period ends anyway. I appreciate it, though. I think he likes me.

The hallway is empty when I step out of the theatre. I can hear laughter coming from one of the halls, it seems that everyone in this department is nice. That’s cool.  
  
 

It’s already getting kind of dark when I leave, jeez, what time is it again? I bring my wrist into my vision and glare at the ticking face, 5:58pm. I need to get back to my dorm. It’s a twenty minute walk, so I shall walk briskly. I pick up my pace and clutch my bag strap to my chest.  
Why the hell did I decide to wear jeans in summer? It’s constricting and I’m sweating and it’s uncomfortably warm.

The streetlights are beginning to flicker on when I turn the next corner, illuminating the pavement below. I look up at the sky and notice the tiny sparks that litter the sky, there aren’t many stars out yet, but I know there will be soon.

“Ah!” I shout as my body is unwillingly dragged into a back alley, and I can feel various pieces of stationery falling out of my shoulder bag.

“Well hey there, what’s a kid like you doing out at this time of the night?” A guy growls at me, gripping my shirt collar and breathing onto my face. His friend snickers at me. I probably look like a threatened mouse, which I may as well be in this situation. And for some reason I think it’s a good idea to retort.

“It’s like six o’clock. I’m not the only person out at this time.”  
I immediately regret saying that, and it comes back to bite me in the ass when I receive and hard punch to the nose.

“You’re a fucking idiot.”  
Well, yeah. As if I didn’t know that already. He throws me against the wall behind me and I feel a headache hit me hard when my skull collides with the cold concrete.

My vision is a bit fuzzy, but I manage to stay in focus. A force hits my hip and sends a shout of pain up my throat and out of my lips. By now I’m using up most of my energy to keep me standing on two feet, and that strength is wearing out with every blow the two abusers hit me with.

“It’s really fucking unfortunate that you decided to take this route tonight.”

“No shit.” Fucking fuck Jean, keep your stupid mouth shut. You’re going to get yourself killed.

I prepare for the next hit, the one that could potentially knock me out. But it never comes.

“Hey! What the fuck do you think you’re doing assholes?” Oh my god, I thought I was screwed. Thank you, my unexpected saviour.  
My spirits were somewhat dampened when I heard one of my attackers snicker,

“Hey Kris check this out, it’s that kid again!” Oh, so they knew this guy. Good or bad? We shall see.  
He muttered something unrecognizable before looking up and walking around the guys.

“Back for more, freckles?” Hey, he did have freckles. He also had a lot of piercings, multiple in each ear and several others situated around his features. He was wearing a My Chemical Romance tee; I liked his taste in music. He was wearing jeans like me, in summer. I’m not the only idiot around it seems. He was also wearing leather boots though, so I had a feeling that he had a different style to my own. Very different indeed.  
His right eye had an eye patch covering it, and I could see evidence of a scar.

The attention was off of me now, and I noticed the guy looking at me. Dude, pay attention to the violence-crazed dickbags in front of you. He did.

“If it weren’t for that chick we totally would’ve beat your ass!” One of the guys – Kris – jabbed freckles in the shoulder with his forefinger. Freckles flinched a little, and I could see a spark of irritancy flash over his eyes for a split second. His lips curled into a smirk.

“I wish you hadn’t done that,” he sneered, and I saw Kris’s shoulders drop a centimetre or two. All signs of confidence had disappeared from his body language and what seemed to be a conversation consisting of eye contact and heavy breathing followed.

Freckles roughly grabbed Kris’s hand - the one that was still hovering by freckle’s shoulder - and twisted it around, the rest of Kris following suit. Freckles had the guy pinned. Kris’s face was contorting into unattractive expressions, each one showing pain.

“One point to freckles,” my rescuer whispered. He then proceeded to kick Kris in the knees from behind.  
Oh, jeez. That looked painful.

It apparently was, because Kris then let out a sharp shout and fell to the ground. I spotted my other attacker getting ready to dive into the brawl, but freckle’s kicked him straight in the face before he could do anything.

I wasn’t exactly comfortable watching this all go down, as you can imagine. Everyone was scary tough and I had only just started recovering from my head injury. I did manage to pick up some of my books though, so that was good.

I heard a loud exclamation and turned my attention back to the fight going on in front of me and saw one guy on the ground and the other clutching his face. Oh, god, there was a lot of blood. The two of them stumbled about before dragging one another away from the scene and away from badass freckles.  
  
I took this as a good chance to gather my discarded belongings and then scram.  
Freckles is laughing and I’m uncomfortable. I grab some of my pens and scramble around, trying to gather up all my papers and books as fast as possible. I sense eyes on me and turn to look at freckles, who’s staring straight back at me. He walks over and picks up a couple of my books, while I just sit back on my heels and watch like a dork.

He stands up with books in hand, and I follow his lead, standing up alongside him.

“Here you go,” he muttered, his voice sounded way softer than before. I reached out and took the books from him, trying to slip them into my bag. ‘Trying’ being the operative word.

I was just about to turn and leave when I heard an attempt a conversation, oh no.

“Are you okay dude?”

Curling my hands into tight, sweaty fists and avoiding his eyes (well, eye anyway) I hastily reply.  
  
“Uh, yeah. Cool. Cool cool, cool. Y-Yeah.” I finish my ‘sentence’ and run away before he can reply.  
  
Oh, god. That was not a very nice experience.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget to check out Marcos POV!


End file.
